


You Really Had A Wonderful Life

by SkeletonTea



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Christmas, F/M, It's a Wonderful Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-04 21:09:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1793296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkeletonTea/pseuds/SkeletonTea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A man with the weight of the world on his shoulders and the choice that could forever change not only himself but the ones around him. A twist of the classic holiday movie 'It's a Wonderful Life'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prayers

**Author's Note:**

> An: I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m still on hiatus for Ship of Dreams. I’m going to finish it I promise! But anyways, this idea has been mulling around for quite some time. Look, I know it’s not Christmas but, I can’t wait six months for this to be published! My fingers are aching to type more. As you will see it is highly based off Frank Capra’s ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’. I’ve changed names and a lot of the lines but the concept is the same. I’m in the Christmas mood even though it’s summer (is that strange?) so that’s why I am writing this. Enjoy it though!
> 
> Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE OR ANY CHARACTERS AFFILIATED WITH IT.

Each year on Christmas Eve when the snows falls silently on the ground, a magic reins within the air. Some call it the spirit of the holidays, others call it faith but for those who don’t believe; it’s humbug. On this very night in the heart of England a man suffers greatly. He suffers from the weight of the world around him and is questioning his belief in himself. With the stars shining brightly in the sky, and with the heavens arms wide welcoming the man should he make the decision, a miracle begins.

_“Dear God, if there was any time I desired your assistance, tonight would be the night. I’ve realized I’ve not been my best but, there is a man that needs your help, God. He’s very distraught and I cannot lose him, he is my best friend. Please God, please help him.”_

_“I realize that I haven’t prayed for quite some time, God. I don’t pretend to have stable ground with you but… It’s come to my attention that a man who is very loved by all is not quite himself. He tries so hard, God… All my prayers are with him tonight, please he needs someone by his side tonight most of all.”_

_“There is something wrong with him, Lord. I know that he is good man, even though he has never been quite as good as he could be… but, just for tonight, I believe that he is not in his right mind. Please, Lord. Be with him tonight, he deserves it more than any of us.”_

As the stars shined bright within the dark sky the flickering of two in particular should catch your eye. The North Star, the most powerful and beautiful of the stars, rested in the center of the sky.

“Is everything alright, Joseph, you seem upset?” The deep voice of the North echoed for only you and I to hear.

“Sir, it looks like we will have to send someone down, and on tonight of all nights. A lot of people are asking for the help of a man named Charles Carson.” The star, although did not differ in size held a softer, gentler voice.

“Carson, you say?”

“Yes sir, tonight’s his crucial night it would seem. The moons have not spoken of him until now, it’s urgent they say.”

“Yes, yes of course. We will have to send someone down immediately. Now, whose turn is it?”

A lingering silence filled the air until the second star spoke once again in a hesitant manner.

“That’s why I’m here; it would seem that it’s that old map maker’s turn again.” He finished with a deep sigh.

The North Star chuckled at Joseph’s bleak demeanor.

“Ah yes, Elijah. Such a simple man, with the faith of a child. I don’t believe he has wings yet, Joseph. Maybe tonight we will hold witness to two miracles. Please send for him.”

As soon as the words were spoken a flit of light crossed the sky and joined the other two stars.

“You sent for me, sir?” A weak voice came from the smaller star.

“Yes, Elijah. A man on Earth needs our help, and seeing as it is your turn we have no choice then to send you down.” Joseph said with a snort.

“Oh, wonderful! What’s wrong with him? Is he his sick? Dying? I’m quite good with the sick and dying, sir!”

“No, not sick… And not quite dying. The man, at exactly midnight on the night of Christmas Eve, will be thinking seriously of throwing away God’s greatest gift.” The North Star didn’t bear to speak the words himself. He feared the very thought of it all.

“Not _quite_ dying, you say?” Elijah paused for a moment, as if he were trying very hard to solve the puzzle that was given to him. “Oh! Oh, dear! You mean he’s thinking of taking his life, oh dear. This is urgent, I must dress. I have to –“

“Sit down, Elijah. If you want to help a man you better know a thing or two about him, don’t you think?” Joseph said in a rather annoyed voice.

“Sit down? Oh well, yes I suppose.”

“If you help this man, Charles Carson; Elijah I promise you shall earn your wings.” The North Star’s humble voice filled the air. The wind sparked with a certain hum and flew through the night; swirling the snowflakes along the ground creating a certain glow against the white land. And through the night it sped as fast as a steam train. From the depth of space it hurriedly traveled miles and miles, appearing at a home; more of a mansion some might say and others would compare it to a castle. And within these never ending corridors lies our tale of a very distraught man, and the miracle that saved him.

* * *

 

Charles Carson stared through the frosted window, his breath fogging the glass with each exhale. The day was Christmas Eve and he was overwhelmed with the numerous tasks of the day. He rubbed the window to reveal a scene of white. Since the beginning of winter it started snowing and has not stopped since. The thick blanket of snow engulfed the Abbey and made it difficult for things to come and go. The chauffer was sent out every day just to fetch the paper. The delivery boy refused to continue bringing it, even when offered a considerably higher wage, due to the heavy weather. Just another complication for Carson, after all what did he expect.

His mood was very foul this holiday season for no particular reason. But, she noticed. He didn’t know but she knew when something was wrong, even when he wouldn’t admit to it. Her hand held herself steady as she watched him by the window. He didn’t see her questioning stare and her relaxed body against the door frame. Charles squinted to see the car pull around the bend of the Abbey. Pulling his waistcoat down and straightened his jacket he turned to face her.

“Oh! Mrs. Hughes, I didn’t see you there.” He shook his head and came to stand in front of her.

“Did I give you a fright? Were you expecting the Ghost of Christmas Past, Present, or Future, Mr. Scrooge?” As if it were natural she shifted the documents from her hand to underneath her arm, freeing her hands to tighten his tie. He stared at her fingers as she did this and didn’t fathom to stop her. Mr. Carson had always been very distant during the holidays. Mrs. Hughes had tried everything for him to at least acknowledge her presence at times. Intimacy was not their strong point; it wasn’t even a point in his mind but it was Christmas and she desperately craved for some sort of affection.

“You’ve been reading Dickens again.” He looked at her as he said this, and saw how her brow was furrowed as she concentrated on fixing his attire to the peak of perfection. When she finished she gave a small smile and met his eyes.

“Don’t I always this time of year, Mr. Carson?” Her smile caught him off guard. The twinkle of her eyes, the rosiness of her cheeks. Her lips were red, not the color of blood but the color of a freshly picked apple. They looked nice. She looked nice he took note. His mind diverged from such trivial nonsense. He shouldn’t be thinking of her in such a manner, and with that he became the hardened rock that he was known to be. Her smile faded and the moment was shattered.

Mrs. Hughes extended her hand and handed him a copy the schedule for the day. Another day, the same as always; his demeanor would not even change for the holidays. As he passed her in the doorway their hands brushed. Another chance wasted. She walked along beside him discussing the normal procedure on Christmas Eve; breakfast for the family, then the decorating of the tree, and after a day of constant ringing of bells for a fresh pot of tea they would finish with Christmas dinner. Simple but plenty of time for something miraculous to happen.

“Who is she?” Elijah spoke up finally. “Are they lovers?”

“Oh my man, far from that. Perhaps we should see when they first met?” the North Star replied and with a flash of light the scene changed.


	2. Changes

The rain was pounding against the window of the Abbey. A young man gallops down the stairs, his dark curly hair lying across his forehead. He was tall and lanky but with a strong face. The man walked along the halls, fiddling with the button on his waistcoat that was sure to fall off soon.

“Who’s that?” Elijah whispered.

“That, is Charles Carson.” The North replied with a rather auspicious tone.

“Oh… Handsome man this Carson fellow.”

The man continued his merry way towards the kitchen, passing young maids and giving them a broad smile. When he reached the cook he gave her a kiss on the cheek and snatched an apple from the bowl. He tossed it in the air as she laughed.

“G’day Beryl, how are you today my dear?” He looked at the layout of the kitchen and sighed. Apple tarts, his favorite. Beryl Patmore, his dear friend, was newly appointed to head cook and although she was a higher rank than him he still teased her merrily. He took a loud bite from the freshly picked apple and watched her continue slicing the rest.

“It’s a dreadful day, Charles. I mean would you look outside!” She flung her hand towards the window. “December in the heart of England and instead of snow we have rain! It’s almost unheard of. This year has to be the warmest winter in near a century.” Beryl scoffed and laid down her knife. “What are you doing here anyways you filthy beggar?” She wiped her hands on her apron and turned completely towards her friend with crossed arms.

“Come now, Beryl can’t a friend visit another friend?” His eyes sparkled with mirth. Charles elbows relaxed against the table as he inspected where to take the next bite of his snack. His curls would not stay put and continued to tumble into his eyes. No matter how many times he slicked back the unruly locks of hair they would always come completely undone by nightfall. Running his fingers through his hair he stared at her.

“You never visit me unless you want something. Out with it man, I have work to do.” The kitchen maids flitted around her like a moth to a flame; always asking if she meant the sugar to be powdered or granulated or if the soup was supposed to have the chicken or the fish. She often compared them to her worker bees. Beryl enjoyed her promotion; if she gave any credit towards how she got it she would give it to Charles. He often asked the heads of the house if Mrs. Burr, the former cook, was going to retire any time soon. And although he was thoroughly persistent with them, the butler and housekeeper admired his adamant efforts to put in a good word for his friend. His planned worked. And when Mrs. Burr handed in her two week notice they announced that Beryl would replace her, the best news he could ever receive.

“Who’s this new maid everyone has been discussing as of late?” Tossing the remaining core of his apple in the bin he took a seat at the smaller table. When a fairly young kitchen maid passed he grabbed her hand and asked her for a cup of tea. With a flirtatious wink he sent her on her way and when he met Beryl’s knowing glance he mouthed ‘What’. Shrugging he continued. “They say she’s a Scott, how refreshing.”

“Her name is Hughes, which is all I can recall.” Beryl caught the younger maid and said she would take care of the tea. Whatever was in the air it was certainly making Charles Carson a happy man. She blamed the holidays; he always got flirtatious when the first sprig of mistletoe was hung. Beryl turned her head when she heard a great huff of disappointment. “No.” She nodded her head to the young maids. “None of them.” That’s all she had to say.

“When is she going to be here?” He continued to fiddle with the button on his waistcoat, the thread running bare. He’d have to get one of the maids to sew it back on.

A look at the clock confirmed that she was running late. There was really no rush but, punctuality was the key for success in Beryl’s mind. “She was supposed to be here over an hour ago, not a good sign at all.”

“Give her a break, after all isn’t it just a dreadful, dreadful day Mrs. Patmore.” He mocked her then collected his cuppa and said he would rather take his tea in the servant’s hall. Passing the cook he gave her another harmless peck and whispered his thanks.

Exiting the kitchen he nearly slipped when he encountered a trail of water from the door. As he tried to steady himself he dropped his piping hot cup of tea, it shattered at his feet and he whispered a curse.

“Oh no!” He turned quickly at the unfamiliar voice and for the first time he saw her. To him the world stopped. A young woman soaked to the bone, her face framed with wet ringlets of flaming red hair scurried to help with the shattered cup. “I’m so sorry, I’ve just arrived and no one seemed to have answered the door. Oh God, I’m so sorry.” She settled down her bags and proceeded to pick up the pieces of china. Charles continued to stare at her, Scottish, he remarked. Her lips were blue and she seemed to be chilled to the bone. He knew if he were to touch her she would be ice.

“Please leave it, Ms. Hughes, correct?” She stood and her height was what caught him off guard; tiny, like a doll. He noticed her cheeks were flushed and her bottom lip was trembling and he immediately ushered her towards to scullery room. Picking up her bags he told her that he would find her someone to help her get warm. Flustered he rushed towards the housekeeper’s sitting room. With a knock he opened the door, balancing the red haired woman’s bags in his other hand.

“Mrs. Frampton, the new maid has arrived but I’m afraid if we don’t act promptly she might freeze to death before we can put her to work.” The housekeeper acted hastily, gathering the wool blanket from her settee. As he watched Mrs. Frampton hurry towards the scullery he gathered all his might to climb the sets of stairs towards the room she would be staying in.

“You told me they are not lovers!” Elijah stated with a huff. “It is clear to me that he fell in love with her a first sight!”

“Calm yourself, Elijah. There is still far more in which you will need to see.”

* * *

 

Her name was Elsie Hughes, Charles found out as the weeks went by. She came from Argyll, Scotland from a small town in Lochgilphead he remembered her saying. From the moment she arrived the younger men have been pining over her, paying her compliments and flirting with her. But as Charles took note very quickly she practically beat them off with a stick. She did not enjoy to be treated with such vulgar remarks and flirtatious wisecracks. And it became clear to him that even though she had a hard outer shell she was quite nice and soft once you go to know her. Elsie had fit in right away with everyone; she was kind to those younger than her and got along splendidly to those who were her same age.

He’s changed, Beryl took note one day. Charles never came to chat with her anymore and when he would pass the kitchen she saw that his head was hung low like a lost pup. Today was the same as always but before he could rush away from her she grasped his elbow and turned him to face her.

“What on Earth has gotten you so down in the mud, Charles? Ever since that maid arrived you’ve not been yourself!” After the words left her mouth the realization dawned on her. Oh, the dear man. Her eyes widened and a smile broke from her lips. His confused face sent her through the roof; the man was head over heels for the Scottish lass! Without a word to the cook he continued on his way.

A few months had passed and he distanced himself from the cook and anyone he previously had an attachment towards. It was childish, he realized, but it was the only way of keeping him from saying something foolish. Whenever she came near he became dizzy and he swore that if he were to speak to her his words would flood from his mouth like gibberish. It was better this way, no more nonsense.

It was the beginning of the inevitable hardened butler they would know soon enough.

“Why did he change?” Elijah remarked.

“To protect himself from the dangers of love, smart don’t you think?” Joseph put his two cents into the conversation, his comment not going unnoticed by the other men.

* * *

 

The summer came quickly that year, the buds on the trees sprouted and the small pond dissolved into a large lake. Elsie shuffled her feet just waiting to get out of the house and divulge in the riches of nature. Every chance she got she peeked through the heavy curtains of the room she was vigorously cleaning to see the green land. She was restless.

Ever since she arrived she felt welcome, soon enough she knows she will feel like one of the downstairs family. But, she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was one person that did very little to even acknowledge her. Charles Carson would barely look at her let alone talk to her. She had never felt more self-conscious about herself when she was around this man. When they first met she could have sworn she saw a spark in his eyes, a flash of foreshadowing to show that they would be great friends. She supposed it was a trick of light but, she just couldn’t forget the way she helped her that day. He was so kind to her but, what happened? Had she said something to offend him? She couldn’t think of anything she said that was foolish.

She gathered the dirty sheets and headed for the scullery. As she neared she heard he faintest gasp and whisper of a curse. When she entered the room she smiled at the sight of Charles Carson on his hands and knees rummaging under the table.

“Lost something?” The loud bang of his head crashing against the table was the only thing that broke her from her reverie. He fumbled with his words as he clutched his forehead. “Oh dear, I’m sorry!” She dropped the soiled sheets on the infernal table and touched the spot on his head that was certainly going to swell. He gasped at the contact and practically fell to the floor as he tried to retreat from her, rounding to the other side so the large table was in between them.

“I’m fine.” He practically whispered, avoiding her eyes.

“What were you doing under the table?”  She turned to the sink and grabbed a wash rag; his forehead was swelling a small cut oozed blood. We an apologetic smile she told him to sit down, he tried to refuse but with a stern glance he obeyed. When the cold cloth caressed his temple he hissed, she again apologized. She wiped away the blood that had trickled down from the cut to the edge of his cheek. He felt dazed as he breathed her in; his eyes were glassy as he tried to fiddle with his fingers. Charles felt his heart beat faster and his eyes flutter. He cleared his throat and sat straighter in his chair and focused on anything but her.

“I-“He started. She stopped and watched him for an explanation her blue eyes searching his own. “I lost a button.” He fiddled with the empty section of his waistcoat that sprouted the now unattached thread. She smiled at him. Glancing under the table she spotted a shiny black button and kneeled to fetch it.

When she arose she held it between her fingers, “I can fix it, if you will allow me.”

He returned her smile sheepishly and extended his hand, “All this time and I don’t think I’ve ever fully introduced myself. I apologize.” Charles shook his head and blushed deep red.

“Elsie Hughes.” She shook his hand, strong and firm.

“Charles Carson.” He continued to clutch her hand even after their brief introduction. It was not unwelcome but it was unfamiliar for the both of them. They would not know it now but, in the future there would be many moments like this. After all, they were destined to forever be by one another’s side; friends.

“She’s lovely.” Elijah sighed and with a giddy laugh continued, “If I was him I would not waste another chance!”

“Oh but, you have no idea how many chances they have wasted together.” The North Star mumbled to himself but the words did not escape Elijah’s notice and with a heavy heart, the scene changed to something far less happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this one! You see how he changed Beryl’s life, I know it doesn't seem like it but a good recommendation can honestly change everything. Next will be one of the girls. Thank you so much for the encouraging feedback; tell me what you think about this. Next chapter should be up soon.


	3. Tumbles

“Where are we, now?” Elijah enquired as he watched the cool breeze flow through the trees. It seemed familiar to him. The trees were in full bloom and he watched birds fly through the clear sky. The water from the lake lapped against the dock, which creaked and moaned from such little force. “Are you sure we are in the right place? I could have sworn you spoke of something far worse. If I weren’t already there I would say we are in heaven.”

“Charming.” Joseph scoffed.

“You will find soon enough that the picture you see is not what is meant to be. Do you see those figures in the distance?” The North Star replied ominously. Three considerably small children were trying with all their might to run through the lengthy grass, their skirts hiked up as they tried to course their way towards the lake.

“Come on, Carson!” the eldest one yelled to the man, Charles Carson, who lazily strode behind them at a slower pace. His waistcoat lay unbuttoned at his side and his shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows to reveal his muscular forearms. He smiled at the children and thanked the Lord above that he was the one chosen for this outing. The girls had insisted that he be the one to accompany them on their ‘adventure’. Everyone knew that the youngsters were keen on the newly appointed butler and him just as attached to the children as well. As he strolled through the grass he admired them.

Sybil, the youngest, at age three was very well behaved. She kept quiet most of the time but, when she found something that she was avidly amused by she would always speak what was on her mind, though most could hardly understand what she was saying. Charles remarked on how kind she was at such a young age, and hoped that she would be blessed with that quality through the years to come. Mary, the eldest, at age seven was a natural born leader. She held her head fairly high and was known for being quite smart to the people around her. To Carson she was kind and sweet and although was not as innocent as she was perceived, she held a special place in his heart. Edith, the middle, only one year younger than her eldest sister was a solemn child. She often secluded herself away from her siblings and kept mostly to herself within the library. Edith wasn’t spiteful, far from it, she was every bit a perfect child but, Charles could see that she did not carry the same spirit as her sisters.

“Who are they?”

“They are the daughters of Charles Carson’s employers. Quite adorable don’t you think?” The North Star chuckled as the youngest fell down and quickly got up, shaking off the dirt from her pretty skirts.

“Yes, quite.”

Carson sped up his pace as they descended down the small hill that lead to the dock. He discarded his coat, which was previously slung over his shoulder, at the end of the dock. Charles took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His thoughts drifted towards the young Scottish lass and the choices he had recently made.

Ever since his promotion he had been on his best behavior when it came to socializing with the younger staff. He supposed that the only reason Mr. Williams had even considered giving him the job was because of his drastic change in personality. The younger and naïve boy that first arrived at Downton Abbey was long gone and Charles had no desire to bring him back anytime soon. He was no longer a ‘Cheerful Charlie’, all he wanted was to bury his past as deep as he could and never uncover it again.

She was what changed him and if it wasn’t for her he doubted he would be where he was right now. Butler to one of the lords of the land was a great accomplishment and when he wrote to his mother she could hardly contain her tears. Everyone was proud of him, many had said so. When he first told Elsie she stood in front of him in mock shock, she knew all along that he was going to become something great.

Charles opened his eyes to see the children splashing one another in the shallow water. He wondered what it would be like to have children of his own. As he admired his aging hands he told himself that there was going to be very little time to do such things. He thought about if he and Alice had worked out would he be staring at his own flesh and blood, his own children as they splashed in the lake. Charles told himself that he would never regret a single moment in his life, no matter how painful the decision might have been.

A vivid moment passed through his thoughts and he cringed. When he had settled into his pantry she had visited him. He remembered how she knocked sweetly on his open door, her hands holding a tray that contained their afternoon tea. He remembered how she had smiled at him and bit her lower lip and how she brushed a lock of hair from her cheek. Charles could remember every second that she spent with him and he tried ever so hard to bury her with all his other unwanted thoughts. She congratulated him of course as she started pouring the tea that day. Her delicate fingers had made the perfect cup, just the way he liked it, for him. As she held it out to him with that wonderful, wonderful grin he declined. Shaking his head he had said no words to her. And the look that crossed her face was one that he swore he would never forget, the utter humiliation and heartache.

God, what a fool he was. His mind kept telling him it was the right thing to do; there was no room for romance and impropriety now that he had finally made something of himself. She walked out of the pantry without another word, and that was the last time she spoke to him since.

Charles sighed and sat down on the grass, his legs stretched out and his elbows supported his upper body. Although it was quite warm, there was still a winter chill in the air.

 _‘The water must be freezing_ ,’ he thought to himself idly. He made a note to make the girls get out soon before they caught their death.

Charles leaned back into the warm grass and shielded his eyes from the sun with his arm. Taking a deep breath he relaxed.

“I don’t see what is so tragic about this whole thing. Honestly, I think you’ve chosen the wrong memory!” Elijah had seen just about enough of this whole ordeal. There was nothing terrible about this scene whatsoever.

“I am never wrong.” The North Star scoffed, “Be patient, my friend.”

In a blink of an eye, the scene did change. Elijah followed the youngest daughter to the edge of the dock. Her head craned to see the young tadpoles swimming along the bank. Slowly he saw her body tumble into the water, an incredible piercing shriek breaking Charles from his reverie.

It all happened so quickly, he hardly thought it happened at all. The cries of help from the other two siblings made him jump, he ran as fast as he could and dove into the murky water. Surfacing he searched for the small child, her splashing had ceased. Frantically his head turned in every direction, his heart skipping a beat. Diving underwater he opened his eyes to see her lifeless body floating. Charles fluid strokes quickly positioned him to the point where he could grab her arm and surface with her. Making his way to shore he tried to dislodge the water that was caught in her throat. Sybil made no move; no sweet words fell from her mouth.

He laid her on the shore and moved her hair that clung to her forehead.

_Oh God, please no. Please God, don’t do this. She’s too young._

Charles cradled her head and whispered his prayers.

“You didn’t let her die did you, sir?”

The North Star watched the small child being held tightly by the great bear of a man, her sisters sobbing by his side. His heart ached for them. And with a shake of his head he replied to Elijah,

“No. I did not let her die.”

Sybil coughed and Charles moved his head to see her spit up the lake water. His tears hit her cheek and he could have sworn his heart stopped. Clutching her to him he soothed her sobs. He thanked God for the miracle that he had blessed upon them. Sybil’s tears were flowing as she wrapped her arms around Carson’s neck, her teeth started to chatter from the cold of the water. Charles shirt clung to his body and he felt the same chill the child did. He did not mind, his smile broadened with each breath she took.

Mary and Edith’s tears finally ceased and Charles stood. He settled Sybil down, checking her for any sign of injury and sighed; she was fine, she was going to be alright. He gathered his coat and wrapped it around Sybil, her body being engulfed by it. Picking her up, her hand wrapped around his neck as he carried her home. Mary clutched his right hand and Edith held hers. They walked towards the Abbey, no tears were shed, and no one spoke a word.

“A miracle.” The North Star muttered to the fading shadows.

As they walked quickly along the path, the cold had caught up to the both of them. His hair felt like ice on his forehead and his clothes were becoming heavier. He rubbed Sybil’s back in an effort to keep her warmer. As they approached the Abbey he could feel her shivers become stronger. Turning to the sisters he told them to run as fast as they could and tell Elsie, the head housemaid, to draw a hot bath. He saw them disappear around the corner of the house and held onto the child in his arms tighter. Soothing words spilled from his mouth as he tried to keep her calm.

When he came around to the servant’s entrance he saw her standing there, her eyes were so full of worry. Elsie motioned for him to move quicker. When he stood face to face with her he could see the tears that were on the brink of falling. Charles handed Sybil to her and she disappeared through the halls and up the stairs. With a sigh he nearly collapsed from exhaustion. Charles made his way towards his pantry. The staff peeped their heads around every corner to see what all the commotion was about, and when they saw the butler they gasped. He was worn down and when he finally entered his pantry he slammed it shut shaking the very roof of the building.

Charles grabbed the woolen blanket hidden in the cupboard by his desk then pursued in making a fire. His skin was ice and his bones were beginning to feel brittle. Finally with a fire roaring he managed to curl into the large chair, his eyes becoming heavy with each glance at the dancing flames. As he nodded in and out of sleep he saw a figure standing above him. He knew it was her; anybody else that dared to enter his pantry without permission would certainly have their ear lashed off. She kneeled beside him and cradled his face, stroking his flushed cheeks with the pad of her thumb. He could see the tears in her eyes and before he could protest, her lips pressed against his forehead. Her kiss lingered. He closed his eyes and inhaled her scent, savoring the moment that was now. And when she finally parted from him he could see her lips turn up into a smile.

Elsie lovingly brushed his hair from his face and refused to meet his eyes. She knew it was improper, by God she knew how inappropriate it was but she couldn’t help herself. Rubbing his shoulders to give him some kind of warmth she grasped his hands and finally stood.

“She’s fine.” Elsie muttered as he rubbed circles over her palm. “Everyone is fine.”

That night after Charles was seen that he got warm; he was rewarded with the presence of Lord Grantham in his pantry. He told Carson that he wouldn’t have known what to do if it was him and that he was the hero of the day. Charles told him time and time again that it wasn’t he who saved Sybil, but the work of God. That night the stars shined more brightly than any other night in a very long time. A miracle had been performed and Charles Carson was the sole man that took the credit for it.

“A work of God, indeed.” The North Star said in triumph.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovely, don’t you think? I don’t even know what came over me in this chapter. You don’t think it’s too cheesy do you? Feedback would be great. I don’t know who will be next but stay tuned and we’ll go through this mess together.

**Author's Note:**

> Do we like? Do with dislike? Do we want more? Drop me a review if you desire more please.


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